Back at the show again, topping up my sunburn. I'm managing a ring and miss one of my runs because I don't hear the announcement that it's about to finish. It's pretty annoying because there were people on that ring from our club who should have seen my name on the running order and given me a call over the walkie-talkies. Oh well.
It also irritating because that course was the most interesting one of the day but I think we'd still have messed it up because it's still too hot for Doggo. We mess up the team run on the first weave (again) and also get faulted for our changeover because Doggo broke his wait, which he's not done for years. All that after surviving being in the team with a Belgian Shepherd. For some unknown reason, he really doesn't like Belgian Shepherds. Not helpful, when it's a team mate.
We follow this with an elimination in our next event and then finally we get a clear but again we're not in contention for any rosettes. I hope it's not so hot next week, when we go grade 6 for the first time.
I escape to head for home as soon as I can, back to L who, I think, is feeling a bit abandoned and having to entertain Mini Doggo, who Daughter has rechristened Satan's Hell Hound because of his sharp teeth and his tendency to use them. It's a bit unfair because she does tend to encourage him.
I bring back with me a bag of treats and toys for Mini Doggo, because everything he's got is really Doggo's, although any new chews or anything I've got for him, Doggo has quickly taken possession of and eaten, wherever possible. Of the new stuff, Mini Doggo is particularly taken with a reindeer toy, which was left over from a Christmas stocking.
Daughter is surprisingly at home, having deserted her Father after he didn't produce the goods when she gave him an ultimatum of actually doing something when his kids are over. So she rescued L and took her to see Kung Fu Panda. I'm somewhat jealous but I don't know what I missed because L can't tell me; apparently, she was so tired, probably due to Mini Doggo, that snoozed through most of it.
(There seems to be a worrying trend with my titles at the moment, they nearly all concern our new arrival)
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Satan's Hell Hound
Labels:
changeover,
chews,
faulted,
Hell Hound,
running order,
team mate,
walkie talkie
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